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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883211">i want to be yours and i want to make you mine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFurioso/pseuds/SilverFurioso'>SilverFurioso</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Future AU, Future Fic, Gay Panic, Getting Together, Humour, Inspired by Music, Jealousy, Jessie's Girl - Freeform, M/M, Mentions Of Soulmates, Non-Explicit Sex, Oneshot, Sexual Repression, aomine is a repressed sap, dialogues based on the song, for some of that fluff and cheesinees, mentions of idealised love, tags over, that is right, the non-toxic kind, they're roommates</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:08:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFurioso/pseuds/SilverFurioso</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> lately something's changed that ain't hard to define</i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Kise/Unnamed Girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i want to be yours and i want to make you mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello, people still dwelling in this fading fandom. It's hard to believe this is my first aokise fic since God knows how long even though it was my first ship in knb. And it's just a short getting together oneshot. I still hold this ship close to my heart.</p><p>It's based on the song <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qk9GjbbueHo">Jessie's Girl by Rick Springfield.</a> If you don't know this gem, you should go give it a listen, if you decide to read this. I promise it'll sound funny with the song in mind. It's obviously a het song about a dude who wants to cheat on his friend with his girl, but my little queer fingers touched it and I felt that there were some Vibes (not as strong as those in Jolene but Jolene is a sapphic anthem. I wouldn't dare). And what happens is that Aomine is actually just a silly repressed queer who does not, in fact, want Kise's girl. </p><p>This was the first time I wrote non-explicit sex, and it was something I really wanted to try. I've been experimenting a bit lately, testing how I feel using my own emotions and sensations, and I find that I like it. Hope that you enjoy this odd and messy little thing too if you decide to give it a go.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>Feelings are hard to deal with when you become the closet that you’re trapped in. They come out in bursts and make no sense. They swell and surge and ebb away, leaving the seabed empty for a bit before crashing down in a tsunami that leaves everything unscathed but you. Aomine Daiki wasn’t good with feelings, and that was selling it cheap – he avoided the damn things like the plague. The heart palpitations were unwelcome, and the clammy hands a nuisance. </p><p>Yet, from the time he’d been dragged into the world of princesses by indulging his childhood best friend in their movie nights, he’d began to entertain the idea of a soulmate. It sounded silly, still, but it was there, at the back of his mind, jeering at his aloof front. But true love didn’t exist, reason told him. It didn’t. Love at first sight was nonsense, and that much Satsuki agreed with. Love came later. What happened right away was infatuation, not love. Aomine shivered at the idea of falling in love, yet he had to wonder – was there someone like that for him? Someone who’d make him go crazy, mad, so mad he wanted to die? He didn’t know. What he did know was that he’d bed anyone who wanted him to, no strings attached.</p><p>Life went on after high school. Fate would have him and Kise scouted by the same university. Fate would also have it that they’d become roommates. It was an obvious outcome since they knew each other and went way back. Aomine could count his close friends with the fingers of a single hand. Kise was the one he held closest.</p><p>Them sharing a room wasn’t a bad experience, in their modest opinion, yet when Satsuki visited she wanted to whack them both across the head for the state they left the place in. </p><p>“It’s organised chaos, Momocchi,” Kise would soften her, beaming that smile of his at her, knowing well that it wouldn’t work and she’d be scolding them in no time flat “see? We know where things are, our bedsheets are clean… <em>ish.”</em></p><p>Aomine had to laugh at that. They washed their bedding and clothes once every couple of weeks. They often had to share clothes when they ran out, and the other still had some spare left. Their height was close enough, but their width not so much. Aomine was wary when he had to wear Kise’s tight, brand-names shirts. </p><p>“They’re flattering, Aominecchi,” Kise teased him eyeing his chest with barely contained laughter “you’ll get all the girls in campus swooning.”</p><p>“Sure,” Aomine groused, shaking his head, already getting his cardigan, with that classic smell of a body-sprayed piece of clothing, “I look like an asshole, and you’re laughing.”</p><p>They went on easy like that for most of the first semester of their respective degrees. Aomine had gone for history, something he’d always been decent at, and Kise for English Philology. They didn’t have to be brilliant; they just had to pass. They were there for the sports anyway. Parties abounded, and they’d drunkenly make out with girls just as drunk, shrouded in smoke that was a mix of legal and illegal. They never skipped on the capping before sloppy shags in random places. Bushes, the backseat of Aomine’s beat-up Honda, the peeling hood of that same car, someone’s bedroom, grimy bathrooms. Sometimes the names of the girls slipped their minds, and they didn’t matter. The girls didn’t care, either. Everyone was having a good time.</p><p>Until come February of the second semester, Kise got serious with a girl. Aomine had seen her around on campus, trying to get his best friend’s attention. She was a pretty little thing, had great tits, too. Her hair was long and wavy, running down her back in soft brown locks, framing her round, sweet face and matching her big brown, shiny eyes. </p><p>Aomine had seen the way she looked at Kise even before she got bold and asked him out. Her eyes seemed sweet, but there was a fire in them, a want that Aomine craved. Why did Kise get to have a woman like that? Why was she looking at him with those eyes? </p><p>Kise spent nights out - at hers - not wanting to bother him by bringing her over, out of respect. Aomine tore one of his xeroxed textbooks to shreds one of those nights. Then painstakingly gathered the pages and put them back together with shaking hands. Guilt took over as he sellotaped the mess he’d made. That was Kise’s girl, and Kise was a good friend of his – the best friend he had, the one who knew him best – and he was there, jealous of those eyes she gave him. Jealous of the hands with which she touched him. Jealous of the places where she touched him. His imagination ran wild, and he had to run, too, out of there. </p><p>The thought of her under him, her breasts against the smooth skin of his hard chest, made him run faster. Her fingers touching his nipples, her on her knees sucking him off, her hands on his thighs, her lips on his, made him grit his teeth so hard it hurt. He ran and ran and ended up at campus, where he barged into the gym through the door – they always left it open for the gym rats – and beelined to the punching bags. Aomine’s fists were infamous. That night he wasn’t wearing gloves or even so much as bothered to bandage his fingers. He did a number on both the bag and his hands, which were bruised and chafed when he was out of breath and on his knees, panting, with a shameful hard-on, no longer angry. The mat got darker, stained with his sweat and tears. </p><p>He wanted to keep a cool front, steady his hands, not let his tone raise, yet Kise wasn’t an idiot. A month had gone by since he’d started dating that girl, and the tornado of feelings wasn’t letting Aomine rest. </p><p>It was late then. Past midnight, the sky was clear, and the stars were gleaming in the dark blue.</p><p>“Aominecchi, is there something bothering you?” </p><p>Aomine didn’t look over from his laptop. He had been reading the same line by Murasaki Shikibu’s <em>Tale of Genji over and over. </em> “<em>At a guess, I see that you may indeed be he: the light silver dew brings to clothe in loveliness a twilight beauty flower.”</em></p><p>“Nothing,” Aomine lied through his teeth.</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Aomine confirmed and read the same line. <em>You may indeed be he.</em></p><p>“Alright,” he heard Kise sigh, followed by the sound of his weight on the mattress, “just make sure it doesn’t affect your game, whatever it is.”</p><p>He was thinking about basketball. Aomine would have been, too, weren’t it for the surge of heat inside his chest, uncomfortable, spreading through his limbs, tensing up his muscles.</p><p>“How’s your girl?” he heard himself ask, regret sending him into an instant panic. Kise didn’t respond fast enough for Aomine to avoid full-body tremors.</p><p>“What’s it to you?” Kise finally asked, voice even but curious “You think of getting with her?” There was a hint of mockery in his tone. Aomine didn’t turn back to see his face.</p><p>“No,” Aomine replied. His hand gripped the mouse hard, and his eyes froze on the screen, unblinking. He was telling the truth. </p><p>“Would do me a favour, I’m getting tired,” Kise said after a small pause. Aomine heard the sound of his body shift on the mattress “I thought I liked her but turns out I don’t” another pause, “she’s good but not who I want,” a snort “but who I want doesn't want me.”</p><p>Aomine regained control of his movements when he heard those words, as if they came from far away, a dream. Who wouldn’t want Kise?</p><p>“Who wouldn’t want you? You got girls swooning all the damn time,” Aomine said, voice harsher than he’d like. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>Aomine could see the water disappearing from the shore when he heard the words he didn’t expect to hear.</p><p>“Maybe I don’t want a girl, and the guy I want doesn’t want me,” Kise’s voice reached him, almost a whisper. Aomine opened his mouth, then closed, and then opened it again, and no sound came out. The computer mouse he was gripping in his hand squealed and cracked under his fingers. </p><p>The tsunami came crashing down, and all it shattered were his attempts not to feel. He looked back at last to face his best friend, lain on his side, naked from the waist up, staring at him with those eyes. The eyes his girl gave him, the eyes Aomine gave him, unaware.</p><p>Silence settled heavy and still, the calm after the storm, yet the dam of feelings Aomine had been holding in, far deep into his mind, burst open and gushed out, unstoppable now that they were free.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Some idiot with blue dye in his hair,” Kise smiled, unafraid and careless, rolling onto his back. Aomine saw a big, yellow cat, shining in the dim light of his lamp, exposing his belly, his most vulnerable part to someone he trusted “who until two minutes ago I thought was as straight as they came, but now is looking at me, giving me way too much hope.”</p><p>The way he spoke was confident and light for someone with doubts. Aomine couldn’t bear it. Kise was odd. Always so outwards, so social, and yet when you got him comfortable, you’d see all of him. The contained energy, the mysterious mind, how little he cared for most things that didn’t affect him. Aomine wondered, dazed, why Kise would want him. He knew why he wanted him, the thoughts he’d mistaken for jealousy clicked into place, and he knew. </p><p>He got up, the chair skidding back and rolling off with a slight screech, and walked over to Kise’s bed, staring down at him. Kise looked up and smiled, challenging, the same look he had on before their one-on-ones.</p><p>“Are you going to smash me like you did that computer mouse?”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aomine replied, and his voice sounded as it should. A smile curled his lips and filled him with a warmth so overwhelming he thought he’d fall. And he did fall. He did. Kise’s eyes were shining now, his warm hands made their way to Aomine’s cheeks, holding his face between them “I want you. Get rid of that girl.”</p><p>Kise’s full, hearty laugh filled his ears.</p><p>“I already have, silly,” he told him. Aomine thought he’d misheard, “I did. Then you asked about her, and I risked it,” he explained, his tone mild and amused “guess I'm lucky.”</p><p>“What’s it about me that you like?” Aomine heard himself ask, the stupidity of the question making him cringe.</p><p>“Kiss me, and then I’ll tell you,” Kise smiled. </p><p>The moment their lips connected, Aomine remembered the stories. He remembered that silly idea he’d locked away, about finding the one, about finding your perfect match. The sensitive skin of his lips against Kise’s had him wanting more, and he knew then, that if a perfect match existed, Kise was his. Their lips fit into each other like puzzle pieces, and Kise melted, open, under him, his parted lips inviting him into the warmth of his mouth, the soft tongue poking out a little to meet his halfway out before deepening the kiss.</p><p>Aomine’s cheeks felt warm under Kise’s hands. He knew he looked silly with the smile he knew was on his face and the rhythm of his beating heart. Kise’s eyes were shining, and the pale skin of his cheeks, ears, neck, and down this chest was a soft shade of pink. </p><p>“It’s this, this is what I like about you,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and soft “you love so much you’re afraid of it, but,” he paused and Aomine saw with a painful shock that his eyes were overflowing and the water was rolling down the corners and disappearing into his hair “if you love me, don’t be scared of it because I’m mad for you and I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>Aomine gulped, and his eyes were clouded, too, when he leant over. His chest was flush against Kise's, and he was being held by him, the gentle hand in his hair soothing him. He didn’t care that his arms would go numb when he put them around Kise’s back, under their combined weights.</p><p>“I didn’t know I wanted you, but now I do,” he whispered, “it was you I wanted all along.”</p><p>“You wanted to be my boy,” Kise said, a soft chuckle bubbling in his chest. Aomine chuckled, too. It was silly, but that was the truth.</p><p>“I want to be your boy,” he echoed and raised himself, propping his hands on each side of Kise’s head again, smiling down at him, watching that beautiful, beaming face, “and I want to make you mine.”</p><p>And he did because Kise wanted him to. He wanted to be his, and he wanted him to be his in return. Aomine’s hands slid down his body, feeling, pressing, drawing out sweet sounds. His lips pressed kisses of worship to the soft skin of his chest and stomach, and they were bare in each other’s arms. The drawer was opened and then closed. A pop. A gasp. Cold, then warm and gentle, experimenting, careful. Smiles and chuckles and words of love and devotion. Then kisses on cheeks and temples. Soothing touches. Light pain. Then pleasure, and movement, rhythmic, steady, and maddening. Legs curled around Aomine’s waist, nails dug into his back and his name – <em>Daiki </em>– tumbled out of <em>Ryouta</em>’s lips. He heard himself say his name like a mantra. The truth dawned on them, the Earth rattled and rocked for them, and in each other’s arms, they came undone.</p><p>There was silence, and they panted until their breath was even. They kissed again, tired but fulfilled. Happy.</p><p>“Want to clean up in the morning?” Ryouta asked in a soft drawl, rolling naked to the side. They’d wiped down some. Daiki aimed for the bin, and the condom got in, as it should, and he rolled to the side, holding Ryouta by the waist pressing their bodies together under the dry covers “I’ll take that as a yes.”</p><p>“Yes,” Daiki smiled, reaching over to turn off the lamp on the nightstand “I swear I’m not the kind roll over and sleep right away."</p><p>Ryouta chuckled in the dark and kissed his lips, tender and sweet.</p><p>“Silly. You’ve shown me what it really should feel like, Daiki,” the name in his lips, said without any little quirks, was confessional.</p><p>"So did you, Ryouta," Daiki whispered.</p><p>And in that small bed, they fell asleep, Ryouta lulled by the feeling of being whole at last and Daiki by the gentle rumble of the sea of his pure feelings, finally at peace.</p>
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